


Saturday Morning Watchmen in: A Very Special Crossover Episode

by The_Kings_Scribe



Category: Saturday Morning Watchmen, Watchmen (Comic)
Genre: Cartoon Clichés, Crack, Crossover, Gen, Humor, I'm so sorry Alan Moore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 06:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16969911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Kings_Scribe/pseuds/The_Kings_Scribe
Summary: Our merry band of misfits meets their alternate selves from a darker, grittier universe. Valuable lessons are learned by all, maybe.





	Saturday Morning Watchmen in: A Very Special Crossover Episode

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cartesiandaemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartesiandaemon/gifts).



> This is set pre-GN for the comics characters (Blake hasn't found out about the plans for the squidpocalypse yet) and sometime during a late season of the nonexistent Saturday Morning Watchmen series for the cartoon characters, to give you a timeframe.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning like any other at the Watchtower. The Watchmen were holding their weekly meeting to discuss their caseload, but the agenda was immediately put on hold when it turned out Silk Spectre had brought homemade cookies to share.  
  
Nite Owl munched contentedly on a chocolate chip cookie as he surveyed the goings-on. Ozymandias was sneaking one half of his cookie to Bubastis. Rorschach was juggling with some beakers from the lab on the platform of the currently-deactivated teleporter. Silk Spectre was lecturing Doctor Manhattan for trying to get more than his fair share by duplicating himself. The Comedian was wheedling her for just one more cookie, or barring that, a kiss. Rorschach was juggling with beakers…  
  
…Wait a minute. _Rorschach was juggling with beakers full of potentially dangerous chemicals!_ Nite Owl choked on the last crumbs of his cookie, cleared his throat, and yelled, "Rorschach, be careful!"  
  
Upon hearing his name, Rorschach predictably startled, and the six beakers he had been keeping in the air came down with a tremendous crash on the circular platform. There was a blinding flash. A thick purple smoke filled the secret lair, and inside the smoke, five blurry masses were taking shape…  
  
The Watchmen immediately took up a defensive formation. Silk Spectre opened a window. Jon turned himself into a fan. The smoke slowly dissipated, and the shapes inside it resolved into five people.  
  
Nite Owl stared. It was _them_. Nite Owl, Rorschach, Ozymandias, Silk Spectre and the Comedian. And yet they were different. More angular somehow, their colors more washed out. Almost all of them were out of costume, Alt-Silk Spectre was older, Alt-Nite Owl was wearing a dressing gown and slippers, Alt-Rorschach smelled like a sewer…  
  
The two groups stared at each other for a beat. Then everyone started talking at once.  
  
"Oops?"  
  
"…Interesting."  
  
"Look, it’s us!"  
  
"Oh my gosh, Dan, is that you?"  
  
"Where’s Alt-Bubastis?"  
  
"Uhh, hi Laurie, it’s been a while…"  
  
"Why isn’t there an Alt-Me?"  
  
"Hrm."  
  
"What the heck is going on here?" A loud voice exclaimed.  
  
Everyone froze. The new arrivals all turned to stare at the Alt-Comedian, whose voice it had been. He himself had gone still, eyes comically wide, as if he couldn’t believe the words that had just left his mouth. He tried again, becoming more and more agitated as he went. "What the fork? Shirt, that’s not what I was trying to say! Monkeyfeather, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I swear?"  
  
The Watchmen looked at each other uncomfortably. Ozymandias cautiously took his hands off Bubastis’ ears. "Um, you do swear," the Comedian offered. "Quite a lot, actually. Maybe you should lighten up; being this angry is bad for your blood pressure. I know, I have just the thing! Why did the giant squid cross the road? To get to the other tide, hahaha!"  
  
This drew a chuckle from Bubastis, Rorschach and Jon, polite smiles from Ozymandias and Silk Spectre, and bewildered looks from their alternate selves. Nite Owl felt it was time to step in. "All right, everyone calm down," he said with his usual air of cool authority. "Let’s try to figure this out! Jon, Adrian, what was in those beakers?"  
  
Ozymandias glanced at the workbench Rorschach had raided. "I’d say mostly the phlebotinum and the unobtainium Jon and I were going to use for our experiment to contact alternate universes. We were hoping to use the data gathered to solve unsolved crimes, but the way the chemicals interacted must have produced a tachyon surge in the teleported that opened a rip in the space-time continuum and yanked through the people most closely resembling ourselves!"  
  
Nite Owl tried to follow the explanation, gave up, and said simply, "And can you fix it? Send them back?"  
  
Ozymandias and Doctor Manhattan glanced at each other. "Possibly," Ozymandias admitted. "I’d have to tinker with our machine a bit, hook up the Alternicator to the teleporter… The problem is that this-" he gestured at the puddle of purple liquid and pile of broken glass on the floor, and glared at Rorschach whose face splotches arranged themselves into a contrite expression, "-was all our unobtainium."  
  
"I see," Nite Owl said. "Can we get more?"  
  
"Well, it’s really hard to obtain, but… Hm. Yes, that’s it! Last week, Bubastis and I investigated an illegal chemical dump by Dodgy Labs. They’ll be out of business for good after the authorities are done with them, but right now they must still have some unobtainium in their vaults! We’d have to break in, but the security must be minimal."  
  
Nite Owl nodded. "Very well. Then you and-" he pointed uncertainly at the blond gentleman in the purple suit, "-and Alt-Ozymandias will stay here and work on the machine to send our visitors home. The rest of us will go to Dodgy Labs and liberate some unobtainium." He hesitated, taking in said visitors’ general state of dress. Of all of them, Alt-Rorschach was the only one not in his civvies. "That is, if you guys feel up to it. We’ll find some spare costumes for you if you do."  
  
The Alt-Comedian didn’t wait for the input of his friends and said simply, "Bring. It. On." The others echoed the sentiment without hesitation. Nite Owl beamed. No matter their eccentricities, these must be real heroes after all!  
  
"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Silk Spectre protested.  
  
"You have an objection to my plan?"  
  
"Yeah, I can’t go traipsing off to Dodgy Labs with you guys; I have a meeting with my manager today at 11 to discuss my new single!"  
  
Nite Owl sighed. "It looks like it’s Silk Spectre’s turn to learn a very special lesson about the importance of standing by the team." He frowned. "Again."  
  
"Oh come on," she protested, "We’ve done that so many times I’m getting sick of it! And three weeks ago, I learned a very special lesson about not flaking out on my commitments. A lesson I was putting into practice right now, by scheduling my important meeting well in advance on a day when the team had nothing planned. Maybe this time _you’ll_ be learning a very special lesson about good leadership meaning flexibility!" She looked at the others for support. "Am I right or am I right, guys?"  
  
The Comedian immediately took her side, as expected. "Laurie’s career is important! Balancing superheroics with your everyday life is a very important lesson we’ve all learned before," the others nodded in agreement, "And I think she’s handling it admirably!"  
  
"All right, I get it," Nite Owl conceded. "It just feels wrong to break up the team like this," he admitted. "But with our alternate selves along, there’ll be more than enough of us for such an easy job. Go to your meeting, Laurie, and make us all proud."  
  
"And?"  
  
"…And I’m sorry for implying you haven’t learned your very special lesson."  
  
"Good, good," she beamed. "I’ll try to be done in time to see our alternate selves home. I might even bring more cookies. Ta!" She rushed off. The rest of them (except Bubastis and the Ozymandiases) followed more sedately once they had outfitted themselves and their guests.  
  
On the curb outside the Watchtower, they found Jon waiting for them as a Porsche. Nite Owl cleared his throat. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He promptly rearranged himself into a spacious minivan.  
  
Everyone piled in. "This reminds me of a joke: a clown, a trapeze artist and a giraffe walk into a bar…"  
  
Jon drove off.

* * *

  
"So, um… Me. What are your thoughts on the Cold War?"  
  
"Eh? Oh, last month Bubastis and I busted some Reds trying to smuggle refrigerators into the country. Inferior product, can’t hold a candle to good old American engineering. Right, Bubastis?"  
  
"That’s right, Adrian!"  
  
"And, uh… Anything special you happen to be working on?"  
  
"The Alternicator we’re supposed to be modifying. Which we should get back to. Come on, Alt-Me, keep up!"  
  
"…This is a collection of pipes and tubes with a big sign that say ACME."  
  
"And?"  
  
"…"  
  
"…Pass the wrench."

* * *

  
_Rorschach’s Journal, mental draft_  
  
_The streets are free of filth, the gutters empty, but at what price? It's not the heroes who keep the streets clean, it's an all-encompassing_ something _. Haven’t consumed anything since arriving, yet Comedian already affected - chemicals in the air? Radio waves rewiring brain? Scale would indicate government involvement. Must investigate further._  
  
_Bright colors and happy smiles, but empty. Substanceless like cotton candy. Wouldn’t last a day in the real world. They should be pitied, these hapless children playing at being heroes, but the clownish caricature wearing my face makes me recoil. If such an abomination is allowed to exist, this world is, without a doubt, doomed. The sooner we go back to our crack dealers and whores, the better. At least our filth is real._  
  
~~_Still, will be nice working with Daniel again._ ~~

* * *

  
"…and these are the unguarded entrances!" Rorschach finished rearranging his blotches into a tolerable map of the compound.  
  
"Well done, Rorschach!" Nite Owl nodded approvingly.  
  
"Well done, Mister Popcorn!" Rorschach echoed. His pigeon friend, who had done the recon his map was based on, cooed softly into his ear and flew off. Alt-Silk Spectre stifled a giggle. Alt-Rorschach managed to project an aura of murder despite his face technically being an inscrutable white mask covered in black inkblots.  
  
"We’ll sneak in through this conveniently open window on the south side," Nite Owl decided. "Doctor Manhattan, Comedian, Alt-Silk Spectre and Alt-Comedian, you’ll make your way to the security office. Once there, you’ll remotely open the vault and disable all the alarms and traps on the way. Rorschach, Alt-Rorschach, Alt-Nite Owl and I will sneak into the vault and take all the unobtainium we can carry. You’ll monitor our escape and make sure our getaway route is clear. We’ll meet again outside right here. All right, Team, time for our battlecry!"  
  
"Nite Owl!" Nite Owl sounded off, posing dramatically.  
  
"Rorschach!"  
  
"Comedian!"  
  
"Doc Manhattan!"  
  
"WATCH OUT, CRIME!" They exclaimed in perfect unison (as they well should, since they unfailingly did the routine the exact same way every week).  
  
The Watchmen jumped out of the bushes on Dodgy Labs’ front lawn as one, and then noticed the Alt-Watchmen hadn’t followed them. In fact, they appeared too stunned to move from their hiding place. (Well, it _was_ an awesome routine, Nite Owl thought, even with the unusual absence of three key members.)  
  
"Is something wrong?" Jon inquired. "Aren’t you going to do your routine?"  
  
"Come on, we don’t have all day," Nite Owl urged.  
  
Alt-Nite Owl looked even more uncomfortable than his borrowed owlsuit (too tight in the waist area) warranted. "Uh, we don’t… We never really… Look, can we just get on with the breaking and entering?"  
  
Nite Owl frowned, puzzled. He really wanted to know more about this strangely laissez-faire team… But then again, not micromanaging the work of others was a very special lesson he’d learned the hard way. Maybe he’d mention something to his counterpart in private. With a sigh, he gestured to the Alt-Watchmen to step out of the bush. "All right, the window we want should be-" He turned to check the location again on Rorschach’s face. Except the map had vanished from it, and been replaced by a perfect black-and white replica of the cover of Laurie’s first album. "Rorschaaaaaaach…"  
  
"What?"  
  
Nite Owl pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to Alt-Rorschach. "I don’t suppose you could…?"  
  
"Hng!" Alt-Rorschach looked, if possible, even more murderous. Alt-Nite Owl put a careful restraining hand on his friend’s shoulder.  
  
"Never mind, we’ll find it."  
  
"I don’t understand the issue," the Comedian stage-whispered to Jon. " _Take It Or Leave It_ is a great album!"

* * *

  
"Knock, knock."  
  
The first part of the infiltration had gone off without a hitch despite the lack of map. Alpha Team had safely ensconced themselves in the security office. They had hacked the computer, disabled the security system, and Jon had triplicated himself to keep better track of the security monitors. Now all they had to do was to wait.  
  
Hence, the Comedian had grown bored. Hence, he did what he always did when he was bored: tried to liven up the atmosphere with jokes. Hence, the identical pinched look on Alt-Comedian and Alt-Silk Spectre’s faces. "Come on, guys! Knock, knock!"  
  
Alt-Laurie let out a long-suffering sigh. "Who’s there."  
  
"Al!"  
  
"Al who."  
  
"Al give you a kiss if you open this door, my fair lady!" He puckered his lips and leaned in close.  
  
"All right, that’s enough!" The Alt-Comedian exploded. "I’ve put up with the team of clowns, their asinine rituals, your unfunny jokes, and the weird as hill swear censor, but this is a step too far, you- you degenerate!"  
  
Alt-Silk Spectre looked at him oddly. "Really? This is your line in the sand? Growing soft in your old age, Blake?"  
  
"He tried to kiss you!"  
  
"So? You think he’s the first pig I’ve put up with? I can take care of myself."  
  
"But he-"  
  
"Please lower your voices; this is very distressing and I have a lot of monitors to keep track of."  
  
The Alt-Comedian was on a roll now. "And you! Blue Guy! Don’t you have anything to say to this?"  
  
"Laurie and Eddie are both very dear friends to me, and I would be very happy for them if they found love with each other, but whether and how they get there is none of my business."  
  
"Come on, Alt-Me, it was just a joke!"  
  
The Alt-Comedian rounded on him. "Just a joke? She’s m- isn’t she y- isn’t she half your age? Isn’t your Silk Spectre a teenager?"  
  
"I don’t see why age would matter," the Comedian said with great offended dignity, "as long as our love is wholesome and pure."  
  
With an inarticulate cry, the Alt-Comedian whipped his gun out of its holster, aimed at his alter ego’s head, and pulled the trigger. The Comedian sucked in a breath, Alt-Silk Spectre made an aborted gesture toward her teammate; even the remaining Jons looked up from their monitors, alarmed. A puff of smoke left the barrel of the gun, followed by an unfurling flag. ‘BANG’, it said simply. "PLUCK THIS! NOT MY PLUCKING GUN TOO!" The Alt-Comedian screamed at the gun as if it had betrayed him.  
  
"That wasn’t very nice," the Comedian chided. "If this were a real gun I could have been hurt! Maybe even sent to the Shadow Realm!" ("That was the idea," the Alt-Comedian muttered under his breath.)  
  
Alt-Silk Spectre snorted. "Come on, you have to admit it’s a little bit funny."  
  
"All I’m saying is, this thing better turn back to normal when we get back home."  
  
"Come on, lighten up! Hey, how about this: How many dentists does it take to change a light bulb?"  
  
Alt-Silk Spectre groaned. "Crikey, I need a s- s- some gum." Her eyes widened. "That’s not what I-" She began frantically patting herself down. "Oh my gosh, don’t tell me…" She relaxed a fraction when she seemed to find what she was looking for in her inner pocket (she had categorically refused to wear any of her alter ego’s spare costumes). She brought out the small packet, only to nearly drop it when she saw what it was. The peppermint-flavored chewing gum was obviously not what she had expected. "My c- cig- my stuff!"  
  
"Problem, Alt-Laurie?" One of the Jons wandered over. "Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
"My s- stuff! Look at this! Look at this!"  
  
Jon peered at the offending packet obligingly. "I could try turning it into spearmint flavor, if you’d prefer," he offered uncertainly. "But then it might give you cancer. I probably shouldn’t do anything to it, actually. I wouldn’t want your chewing gum to hurt you. You’re my best friend, you know." He smiled apologetically.  
  
"Ugh, these better turn back into my regulars when we get home, or I’m going to kick someone’s booty straight to HFIL!" She frowned.  
  
"Annoying, isn’t it?" The Alt-Comedian gloated.  
  
"Oh, don’t start." She blinked and took in his appearance as if she was seeing him for the first time. Her eyes widened. "Hey, that’s not fair! How come you get to keep _that_ -" she pointed at the cigar perpetually hanging from his mouth, "-and I get chewing gum?"  
  
He deflated. "…it’s turned into chocolate."  
  
"What, really?"  
  
Wordlessly, he took the cigar out of his mouth and showed it to her. Up close, it was undeniably a fake cigar made of chocolate.  
  
"Holey shirt, we have to get out of here!"  
  
"Tell me about it," he sighed.

* * *

  
The shelves housing Dodgy Labs’ rare chemicals stretched through the vault as far as the eye could see. Thus, Nite Owl reasoned, they should split up into two teams to cover more ground.  
  
"All right, but what are we looking for?" Alt-Nite Owl asked. "How will we recognize this… unobtainium?"  
  
"You’ll spot it very easily," Nite Owl explained. "It will be bright purple, and have a label with ‘unobtainium’ written on it."  
  
"Also, it will be the only thing that’s not painted into the background," Rorschach added.  
  
Everyone stared. "Don’t mind Rorschach, sometimes he says weird things," Nite Owl said finally.  
  
Rorschach nodded. "I’m nutty!"  
  
"Ooookay. So, um, we’ll take this side and you guys can take the other," Alt-Nite Owl said, backing carefully away.

* * *

  
"This is officially the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me."  
  
"Hrm. Likewise."  
  
"I mean, there I was, about to go to bed, when there was this big flash - for a second I thought the russkies had gone and dropped a bomb on us - and then I was in this weird room with you and Laurie and- people I haven’t seen in years! How have you been, by the way? You haven’t dropped by in a couple of months."  
  
"Usual."  
  
"Well, my door’s open if you need anything."  
  
"Appreciate the offer."  
  
"…I can’t even begin to explain how weird it feels to be in costume again."  
  
"Wouldn’t know. Never took it off."  
  
"I- look, you know my reasons. Can we at least wait until we’re back in the right universe before we have this argument again?"  
  
"Counterproductive anyway. Need to concentrate on mission."  
  
"Right."  
  
"…"  
  
"…And my alternate self! He’s so confident, always in charge…"  
  
"Hope not saying alternate selves somehow superior. Am offended by the implication."  
  
"Oh, uh, well, your alternate self is… quite something, isn’t he?"  
  
"A travesty!"  
  
"He’s a bit weird, and he’s some kind of magical animal whisperer, but… I mean, he’s on this team. They all seem eccentric, but very competent. They all talk like there’s nothing they can’t handle."  
  
"Only because nothing _to_ handle. Even worst crimes here oddly toothless. Doubt the abomination wearing my face would know what to do about a child prostitution ring. None of so-called Watchmen would last a day on _my_ streets."  
  
"…I don’t think a lack of certain horrors is a bad thing, necessarily. I suppose you could argue that eradicating a thing is not the same as the thing not being allowed to exist at all by some sort of higher power, or wholesomeness wave, or whatever it is that makes this place be the way it is."

"Airborne drugs, surely."

"...But I highly doubt the people of this world care about the distinction."

"Must always tell the truth. People here may be sheep, but deserve to know the truth."

"What truth? We don't even know if there's anything going on here. Maybe this is perfectly normal across the multiverse and our world is the anomaly."

"Hrm. Interesting theory. Existence of heroes and minor crimes would indicate current universe not free of original sin, so can rule out religious tack. But perhaps..."

"My point is, people here are happy and safe. I don't think I'd have the heart to take that away from them, even if I had the power."  
  
"Always knew were a bleeding-heart liberal, Daniel."  
  
"Yeah, well, I’ll try not to cramp your style."

* * *

  
The two pairs met back up again at the entrance of the vault. Nite Owl took a minute to check the Alts had grabbed the unobtainium they needed and not something else. He _really_ didn’t want to come back here again. Satisfied, he turned to leave - only to find himself staring at the barrel of a gun. The gun was in the hand of a handsome man with sleeked-back black hair wearing an impeccable three-piece suit. He was accompanied by two other men, also aiming guns at the Watchmen. "Gentleman Henry and the Picasso Gang!" Nite Owl exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Robbing this lab while it is poorly guarded, my dear Nite Owl," Gentleman Henry said. "Now would you kindly put down what you’re carrying, carefully?"  
  
"Do what he says," Nite Owl told the others as he reluctantly obeyed.  
  
"Thank you for your cooperation. Now, if you will, Lazy Joe will tie you up. Joe, please tie our friends up."  
  
"Do I have to, Boss? I'm tired," the gangster known in the criminal underworld as Lazy Joe whined.  
  
"Call me Sir, not Boss, it’s more polite. And yes, you do have to. Unless you would prefer carrying our haul all the way to the getaway car?"  
  
"Ugh, no, it looks way too heavy. Fine, fine, I’ll tie them up." He started rummaging through his pockets for rope.  
  
"Don’t worry," Nite Owl whispered to the others. "Alpha Team is monitoring everything; they’ll be here to save us in no time!"  
  
Just then, one more gangster came in. It was Gentleman Henry’s right-hand man, Sandwich Fred… herding the tied up Alpha Team. ("Oh look Nite Owl, you were right!" "Shut up, Rorschach!")  
  
"I’m so sorry, Nite Owl! He took us by surprise! I should have been watching the monitors, but I was distracted by the others arguing!" Doctor Manhattan cried when he saw their leader being manhandled.  
  
"Don’t worry about it, Jon! There will be time to assign blame later!"  
  
"That, as they say, is what you think, my dear Nite Owl," Gentleman Henry cut in. "Now that I have so many of the Watchmen at my mercy, I shall take the opportunity to dispose of you… permanently!"

* * *

  
And that was how the Watchmen found themselves dangling upside down over a vat of acid. This was, Nite Owl thought gloomily, decidedly not how he had expected to spend his Saturday.  
  
Off to the side, the Alt-Watchmen sat tied to each other on the floor where they had been unceremoniously left by the Picasso Gang, who were now occupied by gloating as they turned the crank that lowered the rope inch by inch.  
  
"Great, just great. We have to do something if we ever want to leave this madhouse! If they don’t just decide to ice us next!"  
  
"I’m working on it! If I could just grab the knife in my boot…"  
  
"Good to know someone other than me hasn’t grown rusty."  
  
"Shut up, Rorschach."  
  
"Merely telling it like it is, Miss Juspeczyk."  
  
"Cut it out, you two."  
  
"Try moving your arm to the right - no, no, my right!"  
  
"Shh, they’ll hear us!"  
  
The Watchmen were now a mere five feet above the acid and a one-way trip to the Shadow Realm, and the Alt-Watchmen had made no headway in freeing themselves. All seemed lost…  
  
…Which was naturally when the regular lights went out and were replaced by a spotlight. A bright spotlight covered with dark marks forming a smiley face, shining on the criminals. They froze in place, startled and scared, because they knew exactly what the appearance of the Watchsignal meant.  
  
"Haven’t you forgotten someone? I’m done with my meeting, and here I am to save the day!" A voice came from somewhere in the rafters. "Silk Spectre!"  
  
"And she brought friends! Ozymandias!"  
  
"And Bubastis!"  
  
"WATCH OUT, CRIME!"  
  
("Laurie! You came to save me!" The Comedian raved. "Shut up, Eddie," his fellow heroes in peril said in unison.)  
  
A small knife came whistling through the air and cut clean through the rope. But instead of plummeting into the acid, the heroes stopped just short; Ozymandias, who had leapt onto the crane arm, had used his superhuman strength and agility to catch his friends. He used the momentum to let them swing; he waited until they were well clear of the border of the vat, then let go. The Watchmen fell face first toward the floor, but Bubastis was ready to catch them, and the team pet made short work of the ropes with his claws. Now it was time to take on the Picasso Gang!

* * *

  
"I hate to admit it," Alt-Laurie said as they watched Doctor Manhattan grow to giant size and pick up the 4'7 gang member uncreatively nicknamed Little Oliver, "But they’re not half bad." Doctor Manhattan carefully dropped his squirming victim into a silk net provided by Silk Spectre.  
  
"You think that ever could have been us? If the Crimebusters had taken off, or?…" Alt-Nite Owl asked as Lazy Joe slowly backed away from the growling Bubastis, straight into the waiting Ozymandias, who promptly handcuffed him.  
  
"Nah, I told you back then, it was a terrible idea. This kind of teamwork is just not us," the Alt-Comedian scoffed.  
  
"For once, I’m inclined to agree with Blake," a voice said from right behind them.  
  
"Adrian! They made you tag along too?"  
  
"As you can see, Dan," Alt-Ozymandias, clad head-to-toe in gold lamé, said as he stepped closer. "My job is to free you while the others fight these gangsters," he explained as he produced a knife and began sawing at the ropes. "I don’t think they have any faith in us as fighters," he admitted sheepishly.  
  
Out on the impromptu battlefield, the Comedian had strewn a bulging bag’s worth of marbles onto the floor. The advancing Sandwich Fred stepped on them, promptly lost his balance, and pitched forward, his arms windmilling wildly, straight into the Comedian’s spring-loaded Boxing Glove Gun.  
  
"…Ouch. I’m retired, but that stings a little," Alt-Laurie admitted.  
  
Now that only Gentleman Henry was left, the Watchmen made short work of him. A spectacular uppercut from Nite Owl sent him face first into a custard pie Rorschach had produced (Alt-Rorschach shuddered) from inside his trenchcoat. The gangster toppled to the floor, unconscious, his pristine suit ruined.  
  
"So I take it this operation didn’t go as smoothly as hoped?" Alt-Ozymandias asked as the Watchmen struck their customary victory pose and began the lengthy process of congratulating themselves.  
  
His friends slowly got to their feet. "Ugh, you wouldn’t believe the day we’ve had," groaned Alt-Laurie.  
  
Alt-Ozymandias lifted an eyebrow as if to say, ‘Try Me’.  
  
"The big blue guy who’s not even dating my alternate self is more considerate to me than my actual boyfriend, _she_ is half my age and somehow has twice as much to show for it, and I need a coffin nail, right now!" She beamed. "Hey, that one got past the censorship!"  
  
"…The more time I spend here, the more I’m second-guessing my life choices," Alt-Nite Owl admitted gloomily.  
  
"He doesn’t get that it’s supposed to be ironic!"  
  
"Can’t believe technically same person as this rhubarb fit for straitjacket!"  
  
There was an uncomfortably long pause after Alt-Rorschach’s pronouncement. "Ahem, and what about you, Adrian? What have you learned?" Alt-Nite Owl asked.  
  
Alt-Ozymandias took a deep breath. "The science of this world doesn’t make a lick of sense! My alternate self hunts ghosts in haunted mansions for a living! And this Bubastis is MALE!" He blinked. "I really, really needed to get that one off my chest. My pet lynx talking, I could handle, my pet lynx walking on two legs and serving lemonade, okay, that’s strange but why not; but _this_? Doesn’t this other me know anything about Egypt?"  
  
"…Goldy, has anyone ever told you that you have weird priorities?"

* * *

  
The Alternicator sputtered to life. A sparkling ring of light took form over the teleporter platform, right where the visitors from another world had appeared that morning. Everyone held their breath. Without looking, Ozymandias swatted away the hand Rorschach had been sneaking toward the controls.  
  
"What do we do? Should we step into the light?" Alt-Nite Owl asked.  
  
Before either Ozymandias or Doctor Manhattan could answer, a voice boomed through the room. "Oh, there you are, Laurie." A blue shape took form inside the circle and stepped out into Watchmen Headquarters.  
  
"Aw look, there’s an Alt-Me after all!" Jon pointed out, needlessly. "Hi, Alt-Me!"  
  
The newest arrival stopped, took in his surroundings, blinked, looked again. "Oh, I see. I understand what happened now. Something had been interfering with my experiments since this morning; this machine was the cause." He turned to Alt-Silk Spectre. "I apologize; I hadn’t noticed you were gone. I will take all of you back home now."  
  
Alt-Silk Spectre spluttered, taken aback. "What do you mean, you hadn’t noticed- never mind, forget it. Just tell me this machine won’t dump us somewhere even weirder."  
  
"Of course not," Alt-Doctor Manhattan said, impassive.  
  
"Oh, good. And can you fix my C-I-G-S?" She spelled out the word cautiously, looking up as if she expected to be struck by lightning. She relaxed a fraction when nothing happened.  
  
"And my gun?" The Alt-Comedian interjected.  
  
Alt-Doctor Manhattan glanced at the offending objects. "A simple matter of rearranging molecules," he assured.

"So what's keeping you?"

"Hm. For some reason I feel compelled to wait until we’re on the other side," he said calmly.

"Yeah, there are children watching here!" Rorschach chortled.

After an uncomfortable pause, Adrian cleared his throat. "Now, if all of you would step into the circle of light?"  
  
The Alt-Watchmen did not need to be told twice. One by one, they stepped into the light and vanished into a puff of smoke without a backward glance at the Watchmen stiffly waving goodbye.  
  
"Um," Nite Owl said, lowering his hand. "Well, it’s been really, er, nice, having your friends around. Working together was certainly interesting, and I’m sure we all learned valuable lessons."  
  
"That may be," Alt-Doctor Manhattan said carefully. "But I think-" He paused, head tilted, as if listening to something, "No, I’m quite sure my companions won’t remember any of this. Their memories are already fading; in ten minutes, they will be completely gone. I suspect I will be affected as well." ("Aha, can’t derail GN continuity!" Rorschach nodded sagely to himself.) He nodded towards Adrian and Jon. "I must take my leave now. Please do not try to contact other universes again." The two friends nodded, disappointed but disinclined to argue.  
  
"Wait, wait! Before you go, will you at least have a cookie? I baked them this morning!" Silk Spectre carefully offered up a platter.  
  
Alt-Doctor Manhattan turned back from the light to look at her. "Chocolate chip?" He asked.  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"…I do believe I’ll have one. Thank you for your hospitality." He nodded to all the Watchmen, who nodded back. Soon, the last of their strange visitors too had disappeared into the light, still munching on the cookie he had selected. The Alternicator whizzed and sparked. The light died out.  
  
"Well, I guess that’s that," Nite Owl said finally.  
  
"That was _so weird_ ," said Rorschach, for once echoing the general sentiment.  
  
"Now all we have to do is figure out what we’ve all learned today and we can call it a wrap. It’s Saturday evening and I have an appointment with a roller disco!"  
  
"Right, Leaderman, but I have to ask: have you guys learned anything from all this? 'Cause I sure haven’t!" Rorschach laughed.  
  
"Don’t mess with other peoples’ science experiments, perhaps," Ozymandias glared. Rorschach shrugged.  
  
"We mustn’t judge others by their… uh, we mustn’t judge," Bubastis opined.  
  
"The importance of good time management?" Silk Spectre tried.  
  
"I know!" The Comedian exclaimed. "Practical jokes don’t have to be mean-spirited to be funny!"  
  
Nite Owl rubbed his forehead. "…Fine, let’s go with that. ‘You don’t need to be mean to have fun’. At least we haven’t had that one before. Come on, let’s do this."  
  
The Comedian, delighted that he got to deliver The Lesson for a change (once, when he’d complained, Rorschach had told him he was ‘a bad demographic match for the target audience’s profile’, whatever that meant,) turned toward one of the walls of their lair. Behind him, his teammates stood ready to enact The Example. "Ahem. Jokes are funny! Everyone likes to laugh!"  
  
Ozymandias was busy trying to hang a piñata from the ceiling while standing precariously on the rickety stepladder Jon had turned himself into, held in place by Bubastis and Silk Spectre while Rorschach crept towards them from behind.  
  
"But that’s it! Jokes are only funny if everyone gets to laugh! Sometimes, what you think is funny is really hurtful to your friends! Or even dangerous!"  
  
Nite Owl had spotted Rorschach trying to kick the ladder out from under Adrian. ‘Tut-tut’, he pantomimed. Rorschach shrank, contrite.  
  
"Friends don’t do that to their friends! Only bullies have fun by being mean to others! So make sure that when you’re laughing, all your friends are laughing with you!"  
  
Nite Owl reached into the folds of his cape and produced a dart gun. Rorschach lit up. He took the gun from his friend and took careful aim.  
  
"Like this!" The Comedian concluded. The piñata punctured. Candy rained down on the Watchmen. They all gathered around the Comedian with their arms full of candy and laughed uproariously.  
  
They all laughed, and laughed, until everything faded to black.  
  
*Roll Credits*

**Author's Note:**

> -Gentleman Henry and his gang are lovingly borrowed from my grandmother's old English textbook. I needed some ineffectual villains and immediately thought of them.  
> -I stole a joke from Supernatural's Scooby Doo crossover. I ain't proud.  
> -I hope you have a lovely Yuletide, recip!


End file.
